May 1, 2014

Not Even Worth A Rotten Kipper

After careful consideration and to quell intense media speculation, I have decided that I will not be standing in the forthcoming by election in Newark; wherever that is.

I realise that the people of Newark will be inconsolable when they hear of this devastating news but as a man of the people and not in any way a career politician and knowing for certain that 100 per cent of the British population agree with everything I say, the electorate of that fine city in New Jersey just across the Hudson and Passaic rivers from New York will fully understand that their loss is the nation`s gain. More importantly, they deserve an explanation as to why my Sat Nav will not be set to their post codes.

The reasons for my decision are far too complex for the simple voter to comprehend and so no explanation is needed. However, as the undisputed speaker of irrefutable truth, I cannot allow my enemies the opportunity to tell lies about me and smear my impeccable reputation with tall tales of racism, homophobia, misogyny, bigotry, hypocrisy and the legitimate fiddling of tax and expenses arrangements. Those affairs, along with others, are my business and filthy Europeans can keep their prying noses out.

Furthermore, standing in Newyark would be a massive distraction from the important local and European elections that nobody bothers to vote in. Mein Kampf…sorry…my struggle is to secure the election of some very strange councillors and replace MEPs who have either defected or have been placed in prison. Having no links with the area means that the political earthquake I am about to unleash will, like the arrival of 29 million Bulgarian and Romanian cut throats, take place tomorrow, or next week or maybe next month or even next year. As a man of the people, not a career politician and not part of the establishment, I am confident of a complete and overwhelming victory. Ein reich, ein volk, ein…oh, sorry.

My decision might be described by my enemies as an act of cowardice or as an indication of my unwillingness to face an electorate that only I speak for and who support me 100 per cent. My enemies who deny me my divine right to rule and the infiltrators who seek to smear me with lies will feel the full force of my wrath once I decide where I am to be elected with a landslide. I will decide the battlefield and Newark near New York is not the place because, basically, there is an infinitesimal chance I might not win.

But there is one over-riding reason why I pass on my chance to legitimately be invited onto every news and current affairs broadcast produced by the BBC. I will not allow my good name to be associated with a constituency with a name ripe for juvenile innuendo. The politically correct sandal-wearing Guardianista weirdos would immediately invent an anagram and call me “War Ken” or something like that. They don`t fool me, oh no, their names are on the list. Consequently I will not be standing in Scunthorpe, Clitheroe, Cockermouth or Penistone or, indeed, anywhere else. Staines and Barking are possibilities but I am tempted by the parish council of either Upper or Lower Dicker in East Sussex because the anagram would contain the letters U and K and I and P.

Until my ultimate victory is assured, I will continue to provide a useful distraction from a useless government and a woeful opposition and hope to avoid the political graveyard by offering my considerable experience in applying for the post of chairman of the Friends of Newark Cemetery.